


Ready to Lose

by serohtonin



Series: Lights Out [1]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Heavy Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 12:05:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2067525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serohtonin/pseuds/serohtonin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris needs Darren to let him go, but can they really both be happy if he does?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ready to Lose

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Ingrid Michaelson's [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wDXFQofX918) of the same name. This work is heavily influenced by that song and another of hers called "Over You" (which is the one Darren talks about [singing](http://youtu.be/VVPeeSqbqf8?t=2m43s)). I do not own the rights to either of them, but I definitely recommend listening to them. None of the stuff in this story happened, except for Darren being at Ingrid's show. The rest is a product of my own mind.

_August 2014_

Darren's still pumped from performing with great new friends and being back on a stage where he stood behind a microphone and not a carefully crafted facade.

He's at a party after Ingrid Michaelson's show, with a drink in hand and an amazing conversation in one of his favorite cities, when his home seems to pull him back, in the form of his phone beeping with a message from Chris.

_Hey, how's NYC treating you?_

Darren apologizes to Ingrid's stagehand and types a quick reply:

_It's fucking awesome. Wish you were here._

Chris answers a mere two seconds later:

_Darren, don't. Please. You can't._

Darren sighs and responds:

_Don't what? Wish things were different? They can be._

Chris replies:

_Let me go._

Darren rolls his eyes, finishing off his bottle of beer and craving to switch to something stronger. He shakes the hand of the man he was talking to, and apologizes yet again while he explains he has to take an important call.

Darren dials Chris' number and waits.

There isn't a response until the third ring.

_"What?"_ Chris snaps.

"Let you go?" Darren says just as sharply. "You texted me first. You know I can't ignore you. We've tried that."

_"Yeah, because I still care about how you're doing. It doesn't mean I want-- I'd like us to be friends, Dare."_

"Friends?" Darren scoffs. "We were never friends."

_"Yes, we were."_

"You know what I mean, Chris."

Darren looks around, hoping that no one is listening to the conversation and he's not fucked now that he said the name he's worked so hard to keep out of his mouth in situations like this for months.

"I can't be friends with you," Darren continues, and his chest tightens at the words. "Not when you're with someone else. I can't be near you and not--" 

_Not want to run my fingers down your bare stomach and hear you laugh about how ticklish you are,_ he wants to finish, but he stops himself, balling his free hand into a fist and squeezing his eyes shut for a moment.

"Not when you're with him," he finishes instead.

_"Y'know, when we were together last summer, I didn't complain once that you had to parade_ her _around at every single show, so you're in no position to dictate who I can and cannot see. I am happy, Darren."_

Darren's voice shrinks to a whisper. "That was different, and you know it." 

But then he whips back angrily, his vision blurring with tears. "If you're so goddamn happy, then why did you text me? You could have easily seen pictures from tonight. I'm sure they're online by now. You would have seen for yourself how I was doing. Is it killing you, too?"

_"I don't know what you mean."_

"Our breakup. It's been months and it's gotta be killing you. I hardly sleep anyway, but no matter where I am, I lay in bed after a long fucking day and I can't breathe without you next to me."

_"Darren--"_ Chris starts to warn him.

"I don't care. I had to say it. I'm still yours. Fuck, I am so yours that it's ridiculous. I probably always will be."

There's a deep sigh on the other end, and then Chris speaks.

_"But you shouldn't be, not really. It was too difficult. We agreed."_

"No, you all but kicked me out of your house and told me you couldn't do it anymore while I broke down like a fucking child, and now it's killing you so much that you want to take me back."

_"God, Darren, I can't--I shouldn't-- I'm happy."_

"I'm not. Yes, I had fun tonight but I wasn't happy because all I could think about on that stage tonight was you and how every damn lyric felt like a knife in my chest. You carved out a permanent home in my heart and in my head, and nothing you do or say will erase that, okay?"

Darren can only hear muffled sobs on the other side.

"I'll never be over you, so please, tell me that you're mine, too," Darren urges, his eyes threatening to spill over now. "Because I'm standing in the middle of a party in Central Park, talking to you where anyone could be listening, and the only thing I care about is that you're hurting. Because you always make me leave and I'm tired of leaving. I want to stay. Make me stay this time."

_"Darren, we both know that I can't."_

"Not can't. Won't. Say it, Chris."

_"Why does it matter?"_

"It matters. I need you to say it."

_"Yours,"_ Chris says shakily. _"But I don't wanna be, and that doesn't--It doesn't mean this is going to work. I'm trying to be happy."_

He glances around him at the reverie, wishing he could truly get lost in it with the one he loves, like he used to, before all the talk of image, reputation, and fame.

It doesn't mean shit if Darren isn't happy, if _Chris_ isn't happy.

"You could be, with me. This could be our city, Chris, when the show's over. You and me, here. You can write books and I can write music. We'd be free."

Chris chuckles wryly. _"We'll never be free._ You'll _never be free, not really."_

Darren reaches under his glasses to rub at his eyes. "But what if we were?"

He can hear Chris' heavy breathing, and then a silence that stretches on so long that he thinks Chris has hung up.

Then, Chris speaks.

_"We'd have a decent-sized apartment, tucked away from the craziness, maybe way downtown, close to the Hudson. Every Sunday, I'd grab bagels from our favorite place down the block, even though you'd beg me to stay in bed a little longer. I'd tell you that we have to eat and you need to put some clothes on because it's your turn to take Cooper for a walk in the little park nearby. When you came back, we would shower together and you'd use the last of the conditioner, but I wouldn't care. I know you need it more,"_ Chris laughs.

Darren laughs, too, but he can't stop the tears from falling and the snot dripping out of his nose.

Chris goes on, _"I'd feed Brian, and the new shelter cat that Brian wouldn't be too fond of, and then I would sit on the couch and type out a few sentences on my laptop while I listen to you play your guitar and hum nonsense lyrics. I'd try to type a little more, but you would bounce over to the baby grand in the corner of our living room and sing something sweet, either an old classic or a new tune you'd been working on. I would look up and smile, and you would smile back. I wouldn't need to kiss you then, because I know I could do it anytime I wanted and that would make me so happy."_

The ugly tears flood down Darren's face so hard that he can't see, so he takes off his glasses and wipes his face on the neck of his shirt.

"A baby grand, our pet children, and you. Sounds nice, babe."

_"Kids, eventually, if you wanted, but we'd have to find another place."_

There's a brief pause and then Chris adds, _"I love you, Darren."_

"Love you, too. So fucking much. We'll work something out." Chris swallows. _"l have to go."_

"Chris, don't."

_"Goodbye, Darren."_

"No," he begs, but he's left with dead air and dreams of a life they'll probably never have.

He curses under his breath, wanting to call Chris back and tell him that he'd give up everything he worked for just so they could have that life.

But he's too selfish so he'll sacrifice his personal satisfaction for professional success, at least for now.

Maybe, someday Darren will be ready for Chris and New York.

He can only hope it won't be too late by then.


End file.
